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I explained our plans for roughing it and said we should rest very comfortably in the hay mow.

“Dear me, dear me, you should always put off till to-morrow what you can get out of doing to-day. You can do aplenty of roughing it when you get to Wyoming. Go on to bed now and enjoy a good spring mattress while you have the chance.”

Daylight came all too soon, with Sarah Jane summoning us to a breakfast of cornmeal mush and cream, fried perch, buckwheat cakes with maple syrup and cups of amber coffee.

“Let me know if you find anything that I can do to help along. I’d like to be of more use in the world than I can be hibernating here,” she called after us as we pedalled down the lane.

I can still see her merry smile as she leaned over the gate, vigorously waving her sunbonnet in farewell.

FIVE

May 7th,

At Crab-Apple Hedge.

FIVE

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May 7th. At Crab-Apple Hedge.

We are in a new world. All day long we press forward, sometimes riding and again on foot, for the roads are rough and often muddy; and on every hand the beauties of an Illinois spring unfold before our enraptured gaze.

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